


speechless

by StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese



Series: inspired by TUA season 2 [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison Hargreeves-centric, F/M, First Meetings, Period-Typical Racism, Time Travel, What Allison did after landing in the sixties, because it can't have been easy, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese
Summary: Allison Hargreeves lands in 1961 with no siblings, no voice, and no plan.So what happened next?
Relationships: Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves
Series: inspired by TUA season 2 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860775
Comments: 17
Kudos: 97





	speechless

Being unable to speak was Allison’s worst nightmare.

Ever since she was a little girl and she had discovered her powers for the first time, Reginald Hargreeves had drilled it into her head: _Your voice is your greatest weapon, Number Three. Never let it be taken from you_. She had built her entire life on Rumors. Even when she had sworn it off, there was a certain comfort in knowing that whenever things got too overwhelming, all it would take was four words and a carefully worded order, and everything would be fine. Even after Vanya cut her throat, Allison knew that her brothers would have her back if things went sideways.

All of that changed when she landed in that alleyway in 1961. 

Suddenly, she was alone, and vulnerable in a way that she had never been before. She had no voice. She had no siblings. She didn’t even have her father’s name, and the sway that it usually held.

And the color of her skin, which Allison had never really thought about before, was suddenly the only thing that mattered.

As a celebrity living in 2019, Allison knew objectively that people with darker skin experienced racism and discrimination, but… it had never really happened to _her_ before. Why would it? The Hargreeves siblings had been raised equally in that regard (the power imbalance between Vanya, Luther, and everyone in between notwithstanding). Even the most depraved, disgusting racists thought twice before provoking the Rumor, and she had been sheltered for most of her life. All of them had. The police were afraid of _her_ , not the other way around. She had never needed to apply for a job. She had never been told _no_. Even their father had been wary about crossing her. Being thrown into 1961, with no preparation, with no allies, and with no voice, was like being thrown into a stormy, shark-infested ocean without knowing how to swim.

Seeing the ‘Whites Only’ sign had been a shock, and that shock had come with the realization that people with skin like hers, _women_ with skin like hers, were not safe.

She was in more danger than she had ever been in her life, her safety net was gone, and she had no way to fight back. She had punched that white man, and all of a sudden, she had nowhere to go.

But then the beauty salon owner, Odessa, had taken one look at Allison– in shock, hyperventilating, crying, and alone– and offered her shelter immediately, no questions asked. Well, there _had_ been questions, especially from the employees, but once the salon women realized Allison couldn’t speak, they had let up a little. Allison wrote down her name, and asked the date, and told them that she was lost. Odessa had taken her home that night, and offered Allison a place on her couch.

The next day, she had offered Allison a job, sweeping up in the salon. 

It was weirdly soothing, the repetitive work. It was nothing like being in Hollywood or training with her father. Nobody looked at her, and nobody expected anything of her other than fulfilling the requirements of her job.

It was nice.

Patrons came in and out, and every single one was friendly. Allison wasn’t sure if it was because of their shared plight as oppressed women in the sixties, or if they were genuinely just being kind.

“I got my son a new comic book yesterday,” a woman in the chair said as Allison swept nearby. “Apparently, Superman dies in this one.”

“You know, you’d think that superheroes would be more organized than that,” one of the stylists tsked.

Allison remembered her siblings, and the sheer and total dumbassery of every single one of them, and devolved into nearly-silent, wheezing laughter that had the stylists all looking at her nervously.

 _Sorry_ , she had mouthed at them, trying to catch her breath. _Sorry_.

The women smiled, and turned back to their duties. Allison continued to sweep the floor, and ignored the stinging of her eyes.

When Allison walked in on a meeting one night because of a forgotten hat, for a split second she thought she might have stumbled onto something illegal.

In her defense, the way they had all jumped up guiltily, and the way Odessa had shrieked, had been suspicious, and that combined with a childhood of dismantling crime rings and beating up gangs had caused her to jump to conclusions.

Also, what they were doing _was_ illegal, so later, she would insist that her first impulse had technically been correct.

Odessa might have been the one to give her a home in this new timeline, but Raymond had been the one to convince her to join the movement. 

Raymond Chestnut was… electrifying. 

His smile made the whole room light up, and the sound of his laugh sent jitters down Allison’s spine. He was devoted to his cause, and he seemed like the very definition of “the show must go on”. He listened to her, even though her voice was too quiet and it was painful to talk for long periods of time. 

She was pretty sure she was falling in love with him.

It was hard not to think of her siblings, though. She didn’t know if they were dead or if Five had just screwed up the jump, but either way they were gone, and Allison was alone.

She didn’t know how to tell Ray about her family. What would she say? _“So, by the way, honey, I have six siblings. One is dead, one is way too obsessed with knives, and four are white. Of those four, I used to have a crush on one, one sees ghosts, one was born in Russia, and the last is a fifty-eight year old trapped in a thirteen year old’s body. Oh, and also, our father was abusive and my legal name is Three. As in the number. Pass the salt.”_.

She was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate that.

So she didn’t tell him anything.

Ray told her about his family. He had a mother, and a father, and a brother, all here in Dallas. They had been suspicious of her, and Allison had overheard his mother asking Ray, a little too loudly, where she was from, and if Ray was absolutely sure that she wasn’t a spy, either from the American or the Russian government.

“Hey,” Ray said to her one night, as she was closing up Odessa’s, “Can we go on a walk?”

“Sure,” she said, a little hoarsely, and he smiled as she locked the door and took his hand.

They walked a little ways down the street, and Ray talked about the movement and their plans for the sit-in, but Allison could tell his mind was elsewhere. His hands were jittery, and his eyes were darting around.

“Hey,” she said, forcing the words past the ache in her throat, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing, I just, um…”

Allison tilted her head, and Ray smiled, quickly and apprehensively.

“I just… oh, forget it.” He let out a massive sigh, chuckling nervously. “I… I was going to wait until we got to the park.”

“Wait for what?”

Ray knelt down. He pulled out a small box, and opened it.

Inside was the prettiest ring Allison had ever seen. 

The band was simple and silver, but the jewel attached was gorgeous. It must have taken weeks’ worth of Ray’s salary to pay for. Allison just looked at it, speechless. 

Her heart began pounding. This was it. This was _it_.

“Allison Hargreeves,” Ray said, with a small, hopeful smile, “I… I love you. Will you marry me?”

Allison just stared.

The last man she had loved was Patrick, and she had Rumored him so that he loved her back, and she had been happy, but… there had been that quiet prodding, the one that whispered _He doesn’t really love you. If he knew what you did to him, he would take Claire and run, and you wouldn’t even blame him for it. You’re a monster_.

Rumors ruined everything. They always did. But maybe Allison could forget that. She could work with the movement, and make a real difference, the way Allison the Hollywood Star or Allison the Rumor never could. She could let her family slip away into the nether. She could have a normal life.

She could have a normal life… with Ray. As Allison Chestnut.

Allison beamed at Ray, who was beginning to look worried, and spoke clearly, without being soft or hoarse or scratchy, suddenly more certain of this than anything she had ever been in her entire life. 

_Yes_.

**Author's Note:**

> The comic book the mother references is “The Death of Superman!” and came out in November of 1961.


End file.
